


Immortal Longings

by ChakwayAllTheWay



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Endgame, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Humor, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-09-30 07:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 18,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17219708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChakwayAllTheWay/pseuds/ChakwayAllTheWay
Summary: In this Endgame fix, Voyager comes across a strange spatial anomaly that leads to the Alpha Quadrant. While collecting data, the crew is stopped by an alien species that believes the anomaly is a benevolent god. Their leaders tell Janeway only true and worthy pilgrims can make the journey by undergoing an unusual ritual: Performing Shakespeare. **Inspired by Kate Mulgrew's performance in "Antony and Cleopatra."**





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by Kate Mulgrew's tour de force turn in "Antony and Cleopatra" and my eternal hatred of C/7.

USS Voyager

Stardate 54973.4

Torres-Paris quarters

0400

A sharp jab to the abdomen startles B’Elanna Torres awake. At first, she thinks her husband is having another one of his active dreams, but Tom is lying still and silent on the other side of the bed. The pregnant half-Klingon takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling of their shared quarters. B’Elanna has just realized her back is aching even more than usual when another painful punch causes her to gasp and clutch her swollen belly.

“Tom,” she whispers and shakes his shoulder.

“Wha?” he sputters into the darkness.

“Tom!” B’Elanna says more forcefully. “It’s time.”

“For what?” he asks.

“I’ll give you one guess,” she deadpans.

Tom leaps out of bed, suddenly alert. Their baby is on her way.

\--

Captain’s Ready Room

0800

Captain Kathryn Janeway takes another sip of her morning coffee.

“How many false alarms does that make?” she asks, her blue eyes sparkling merrily.

“Three—that we know of,” Commander Chakotay answers.

“That baby is as stubborn as her mother,” she says with a deep chuckle.

Chakotay flashes his signature smile, dimples and all, causing Kathryn’s breath to catch slightly in throat.

 _Even after all these years_ , she thinks.

“Harry's starting a pool to see who can guess the actual date and time of birth,” her First Officer says and wiggles his eyebrows.

 _I remember when we were the subjects of the betting pool_ , Kathryn wistfully recalls.

She’s noticed thoughts like these popping up more and more since the crew returned from their respite on Quarra. Kathryn knows it’s ironic-bordering-on-psychotic to call being kidnapped, brainwashed, and virtually imprisoned a respite from her everyday life. But, to her, that’s what it felt like.

It was liberating to not be yoked with the responsibility of caring for 150 souls. And the feel of a man’s loving arms around her awoke in Kathryn longings she thought long dead; longings she once felt for the man standing before her.

And then there was the strange incident with the deflector dish...

An awkward silence jars Kathryn from her reverie.

“Tell him to put me down for next Friday, 2300 hours,” the Captain recovers smoothly. “Anything else?”

Chakotay pauses for a moment and then gently tugs on his earlobe.

Kathryn’s heart twinges in her chest. _Oh, God. Now it’s the earlobe!_

Chakotay clears his throat.

“Crewman Chell's asked about taking over in the mess hall full time,” he tells her.

Kathryn’s romantic musings are pushed aside by a mental image of the chubby Bolian wearing a ridiculous chef’s hat.

“Neelix left some pretty big pots and pans to fill,” she says. “Does Mister Chell feel he's up to the challenge?”

“Apparently so. He's prepared a sample menu,” Chakotay grimaces and hands her a PADD.

She looks at it warily. She scans it and almost rolls her eyes.

“Plasma leek soup? Chicken warp core don bleu?” she guffaws.

Pleased to see her enjoying herself, Chakotay quips, “If his cooking's as bad as his puns, we're in trouble.”

He and Kathryn share a mischievous look. She sighs internally.

 _I’ve missed him so much_ , she thinks.

Certainly withstanding Chell’s culinary experiments is worth spending more time with her … friend.

“Oh, I don't know,” she drawls. “I wouldn't mind giving his Red Alert chili a try. Feel like having lunch?”

Chakotay pauses just slightly before telling her, “I'd love to, but I've already made plans. Rain check?”

She feels the sting, but pushes through as if it’s nothing.

“Absolutely.”

Chakotay gives her a polite nod and exits the Ready Room. Kathryn sits there for quite some time, staring at her empty coffee cup. She’s about to get up to replicate more when Chakotay’s voice comes over the Comm.

“Captain to the bridge,” he says, and then adds more breathlessly, “Kathryn, you’re going to want to see this.”


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Janeway strides onto the bridge to find a green-brown funnel of light and gas on the view screen.

“Report, Commander,” she calls, eyes locking with Chakotay’s.

He nods to Ensign Harry Kim, who launches into an explanation: “Captain, scans show it’s a quantum singularity with high levels of neutrinos, which could suggest it’s artificially made or contains some kind of cloaked vessel,” Kim says. “I’m also reading high levels of tetryon radiation.”

Janeway absorbs the information and then states to the bridge crew at large, “Perhaps it’s a subspace rupture?”

Tuvok arches a finely manicured Vulcan eyebrow and says, “That is highly possible, Captain.”

The science officer forever wrapped inside Janeway’s command-red uniform comes to life. She taps her Comm badge.

“Janeway to Seven of Nine.”

“Seven here, Captain,” comes the Borg drone’s efficient reply.

The Captain crosses to the Ops Station and glimpses over Harry’s shoulder at the sensor data.

“Seven,” she says, “we’ve come across what appears to be a subspace rupture, heading 229-mark-086. I want you to track the anomaly’s radiation flux, and I’d like you and Harry to work on a molecular scan for any non-humanoid life-forms.”

“Aye, Captain,” Seven responds. Janeway nods to the young ensign, dismissing him from the bridge, and then makes her way to the Captain’s chair.

“Expecting to find something interesting in there?” Chakotay asks, the seriousness in his gaze not matching his nonchalant tone.

“Hopefully not,” Janeway responds through a clenched jaw.

“It’s been a while since we last saw our friends from fluidic space,” Chakotay continues, referring to their most recent run-in with Species 8472.

“Not long enough,” she growls. After a beat, she quietly adds, “Chakotay, message Tuvok on the Conn and ask him to develop a plan to up security on all decks while we’re within range of the subspace rift.”

Boothby and the other genetically altered aliens parted amicably enough from the faux Starfleet Academy they called Terrasphere 8, but Janeway isn’t willing to take any chances. She’s about to order Tom to move the ship out of firing range when the deck is rocked by an oncoming blast.

“Red Alert!” Janeway barks, and the bridge is bathed in shadows and scarlet. She orders Tuvok to arm the torpedo bays when, just as suddenly, the firing stops.

“Captain,” Tom calls out. “We’re being hailed by an unidentified vessel.”

“On screen,” Janeway commands. The face of a reptilian-looking alien is projected before them. He has a long, scaly neck and triangular spikes that start at his brow, arch over his skull, and down his neck like a Mohawk.

“The Guardians of Verhalen order you to leave this realm at once!” he commands in a booming voice.

Janeway stands and addresses the alien in a non-threatening yet firm manner: “My name is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager,” she says. “We didn’t realize we were trespassing on anyone’s territory. We’re new to this part of space.”

The alien blinks at her with bulbous eyes. “Be that as it may, Captain, your ship must leave Suspiria’s Gateway immediately,” he icily intones. “Only pilgrims truly worthy of the journey may approach the portal to Verhalen.”

“Did you say Suspiria?” Janeway interjects. She hasn’t heard the name in years, but it’s not one she’ll soon forget. The strange creature is the only Nacene left in the known universe. In the form of a golden-haired little girl, she attacked Voyager early in its journey because she believed the crew killed her mate, the Caretaker, and destroyed his Array.

“Yes,” the alien tells her. “Suspiria, the Mother of Stories, the Bringer of Light. I am Arden, one of her many guardians.”

“Arden,” Janeway continues, “we will gladly move away from the Gateway, as you call it. But is it possible to meet with the Guardians to learn more about Suspiria?”

The alien assesses her suspiciously, triggering Janeway to amp up her diplomacy. “We are members of the United Federation of Planets, an interstellar republic located thousands of lightyears away from here,” she states. “Voyager is the first ship of its kind to explore this area of space, which we call the Delta Quadrant. Our mission is to seek out other sentient life and to learn more about their cultures and beliefs.”

Arden considers what Janeway has said. “If you leave this area, I will speak to the Elder Guardians about meeting with you,” he tells her. Janeway thanks him and instructs Tom to lay course for an M-class planet one lightyear away from the subspace anomaly.

“I will contact you once the Elders have made a decision,” Arden says before cutting communications. The bridge is tensely quite as Janeway takes her seat.

“Suspiria,” she sighs disbelievingly.

“There’s someone I didn’t think we’d encounter again,” Chakotay mutters.

“I always hoped we’d find her,” Janeway confides.

“Really? After what she did to the ship?” he asks.

“Yes. Despite her duplicity, Suspiria has the means to get this ship and its crew home,” she tells him.

“Yes. But will she do it?” Chakotay says.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Janeway replies, digging her fingers into the sides of her chair and staring resolutely ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing technobabble, so please let me know if there are mistakes or ways I can improve. Also, I've been watching a lot of Game of Thrones... Bonus points if you get the reference. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

The Guardians agree to meet aboard Voyager. Prior to welcoming their guests, the Captain and Commander decide to put off telling Arden and his brethren that they’re actually well acquainted with Suspiria. It has to be her. How many other subspace-dwelling beings named Suspiria can there be out here?

Upon arrival, Arden and the Elder Guardians, Cleon and Jovus, ask for a tour of the ship. Janeway can tell Tuvok is weary of the request, despite his typically inscrutable Vulcan expression, but she acquiesces in hopes of developing a better report with the aliens.

The command team leads the Guardians through Voyager’s corridors, making stops in Engineering, the Mess Hall, and the Airponics Bay. By the time they get to Sickbay, their visitors have warmed up considerably. They are especially thrilled to meet the ship’s Emergency Medical Hologram. The Doctor, in his usual fashion, is pleased to be the center of attention.

“There is no one like you on Ardos, Doctor,” Arden says of their home planet, which Voyager is now orbiting. “To be a being of light, like Suspiria, is a true blessing.”

The Doctor’s lips curl into a smug smile. “It certainly has its advantages,” he tells them. “Unlike flesh-and-blood life forms, I don’t have to worry about eating, sleeping, or any other such paltry matters.”

Janeway flashes the EMH a warning with her eyes and then changes the subject.

“Yes, and please do tell us more about Suspiria, gentlemen,” she says. “I believe you called her the Mother of Stories and Bringer of Light?”

Cleon, the tallest of the Guardians, bows his head and mutters a prayer in his native tongue.

“We call Suspiria the Bringer of Light because she delivered Ardos and its people from darkness just four short rotations ago,” he explains. “Before Suspiria, Ardosians relied on culm, a carbon-based substance, to meet all their energy needs. Burning culm for thousands of years polluted our planet to the point that our crops would no longer grow. Many starved to death, and those who survived fought bitterly for food and water.”

Cleon falls silent recalling this difficult time in his species’ history. Jovus continues the story for him: “Then, four rotations ago, Suspiria’s Gateway appeared in the sky over our capital. She reached out to our leaders, offering them a clean source of energy and technology to repair the damage done to our planet.”

Chakotay clears his throat and says, “That was very generous of her.” Only Janeway can hear the subtext in his words: _And what did she ask for in return?_

“Yes, the Bringer of Light is most generous,” Cleon enthuses, his face brightening significantly. “She explained to the other Elders and myself that she once cared for another people, the Ocampa, but they abandoned her to return to their home world. Filled with sorrow, the Mother of Stories wandered the galaxy looking for another civilization to help.”

Chakotay smiles affably at Cleon, but the warmth doesn’t reach his eyes. “Why do you call her the Mother of Stories?” he asks.

“For her service to Ardos, Suspiria is honored every harvest at the Jubileum Verhalen, or the Jubilee of Stories,” Jovus explains. “Ardosians come from all over to perform stories for Suspiria in hopes of relieving her of her sorrows. We are currently in the midst of preparing for this year’s jubilee.”

The Doctor, who immediately perked up at the word “performance,” interjects, “How very Elizabethan of you!”

The Guardians stare at him in confused amusement. The Captain and Commander, however, are less amused.

“Hundreds of years ago, on the Federation’s home world, Earth, there was a queen named Elizabeth I. Under Elizabeth’s rule, noblemen and commoners came together to watch plays, many of which were written to honor the queen,” the Doctor explains. “One of these playwrights was William Shakespeare, who is known to this day as one of Earth’s greatest dramatists.”

The Guardians gape at the hologram in rapt silence.

“You must perform one of these plays for Suspiria!” Arden excitedly blurts out.

The other two Guardians begin to shake their spiked heads in agreement.

“Yes,” says Cleon. “We are always looking for high-quality material. If William Shakespeare’s plays were good enough for a queen, they will surely please the Mother of Stories.”

The Doctor is speechless, for once. Janeway looks at Chakotay and rolls her eyes.

“And the winner of the Jubilem is granted the privilege of making the pilgrimage to Verhalen to perform before Suspiria,” Arden adds.

Now Janeway is listening more intently. She puts her hand on the Doctor’s shoulder and addresses the group: “We would be honored to perform in your Jublieum,” she announces. “Wouldn’t we, Doctor?”

The EHM stares at the Captain like she’s grown a second head, but then quickly recovers. “Yes, of course,” he tells the aliens.

Arden claps his claws together in excitement.

“Perfect! We will make the necessary arrangements for you on Ardos. Please keep us apprised of your progress,” he says.

Janeway gestures to the Guardians, who make their way to the Sickbay exit.

“You have your orders, Doctor,” she whispers.


	4. Chapter 4

“When I said we’d be honored to perform in the Jubilee, Doctor, I meant _you_ would be honored,” Janeway grates out during the next morning briefing.

The Doctor arches an eyebrow and sardonically replies, “While I appreciate your confidence in my acting abilities, Captain, Shakespeare’s plays aren’t meant to be one-hologram shows. I need an entire company of players to fully capture the Bard’s genius.”

The EMH passes out a PADD to each of the senior crewmembers, except for B'Elanna, who he proclaims is due any day and therefore shouldn't be galavanting about the stage at an alien theater festival.

The engineer, for once, doesn't argue.

“On these PADDs, you’ll find the script and your assigned roles,” he says, pausing for dramatic effect before continuing.

“The year is 40 B.C. We open on a fine Egyptian palace. Two soldiers are shocked to discover their leader, Mark Antony, one of the three rulers of the Roman Empire,” the Doctor narrates, stopping at this point to place a hand on Chakotay’s shoulder, “has abandoned the battlefield to live a life of decadence and sexual debauchery with the beautiful queen, Cleopatra.”

As he mentions the famous Egyptian, the Doctor gestures theatrically to the Captain.

The briefing room is dead silent.

Then Tom lets out a snicker.

Chakotay tugs on his earlobe. Janeway's cheeks color slightly.

“Thank you for setting the scene, Doctor,” she states with as much authority as possible. 

“Thank you, Captain,” the EMH says with an oblivious smile.

“I’m sure the Ardosians, and Suspiria, will find this tale more than satisfactory," he continues. "It’s filled with romance, political intrigue, and tragedy. In fact, it reminds me a little of life here on Voyager—an epic drama about two great leaders from completely different cultures coming together to fight their enemies.”

The Doctor, noticing the nonplussed expressions on his fellow officers' faces, falters. “Of course, without the romance and double suicide,” he mumbles.

Janeway cuts in: “Right. Well, I’ll leave it to you to organize a rehearsal schedule, Doctor. In the meantime, let’s get back to work. Dismissed.”

Everyone stands and starts to file out of the room.

“Doctor,” Janeway intones as he leaves. “A word, please.”

Visibly nervous, the EMH circles back to his captain. He’s surprised to see that she seems nervous as well. His typically composed superior is fiddling with an invisible piece of lint on her uniform.

“Doctor,” she says, “I’m not the right person to play Cleopatra. And, anyway, the Ardosians will surely need me close to them in the audience.”

“On the contrary, Captain!” the Doctor replies. “I still remember the riveting performance you gave as Arachnia in Mr. Paris’s Captain Proton holoprogram. Dr. Chaotica—and the photonic life forms—found you to be a very believable Queen of the Spider People. It takes a certain gravitas to play a queen, you know.”

Janeway isn’t swayed by his flattery.

“What about Seven?" she offers. "She has the statuesque beauty usually found in a queen." 

The Doctor considers the proposal for a nanosecond before shaking his head.

“No... Cleopatra requires a level of confidence and eroticism our dear Borg friend has yet to master,” he says. “Plus, the actors who play Cleopatra and Antony need to have strong chemistry together. Seven and Chakotay barely know each other, where as you and the Commander have history.”

Janeway closes her eyes and massages her temples. _If this is how we get to Suspiria, so be it_ , she tells herself. Plus, she was thinking just yesterday how much she misses Chakotay. This play would require them to spend plenty of off-duty time together rehearsing.

“Fine,” she sighs. “When in Rome, I suppose.”

“Ah, ah, Captain," the Doctor tells her with a raised finger. "When in Egypt is more like it!” 


	5. Chapter 5

For the first time in her life aboard Voyager, Kathryn Janeway is dawdling. She was supposed to be on Holodeck 1 for rehearsal fifteen minutes ago, but instead she’s decided to spend the time tidying her already immaculate quarters.

“Doctor to Captain Janeway,” an obviously annoyed EMH hails.

“Janeway here,” she replies.

“Good evening, Captain. I’m checking to see whether you’ll be gracing us with your presence tonight,” the Doctor says. “Rehearsal was scheduled to begin at 1900 hours. While you might not have realized it, it’s difficult to perform ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ without Antony and Cleopatra.”

Kathryn stifles a chuckle before responding.

“Yes, Doctor. My apologies,” she says as genuinely as possible. “I’ll go see what’s keeping Commander Chakotay. We’ll be there shortly.”

“Thank you, Captain. Doctor out.”

Kathryn takes a quick look at herself in the mirror. The Doctor requested no uniforms “to help everyone get into character,” so she selected a fitted, navy blue tunic with matching leggings.

 _I wonder what Chakotay is wearing?_ she thinks and then shakes her head. _Time to go find out_.

Kathryn exits her quarters and practically runs into her First Officer, who tightly clasps both her shoulders to prevent himself from knocking her over.

“Kathryn!” he gasps in surprise. They stare at each other for a while before Chakotay notices that he still has his Captain firmly in his grasp. He can feel the outline of Kathryn’s delicate shoulder blades under her tunic. The big man quickly removes his hands, as if he’s been burned.

Kathryn catches her breath and says, “I told the Doctor I’d find you and head to the Holodeck for rehearsal.”

Chakotay smiles sheepishly. She takes a moment to appreciate what he's wearing: a dark red, button-down shirt, a leather vest, and brown pants.

 _Very nice_ , she notes.

“Yes, we’re running late, aren’t we? I completely lost track of the time,” he says.

“Of course,” Kathryn responds with just a hint of playful skepticism.

“After you,” he says and gestures for her to lead the way. They walk together in companionable silence for a minute or two before Chakotay clears his throat.

“So… did you get a chance to read the script?” he asks.

“Honestly, no. But I’ve read it before, back on Earth,” she tells him.

Chakotay gives her an assessing glance. “Dante and Shakespeare; divide the world between them. There is no third,” he says.

Kathryn’s eyes spark with pleasure.

“Mark Twain?” she ventures.

“T.S. Eliot,” Chakotay corrects.

They exit the turbolift and head toward the Holodeck.

“A wise man,” she says.

“A romantic,” Chakotay adds.

“I thought he was a Modernist?” Kathryn says with an arched eyebrow before entering the Holodeck.

They are both smiling like idiots when the Doctor’s acerbic voice jars them back to reality: “How nice of the two of you to join us,” he snips.

Chakotay watches as Kathryn’s flirtatious expression is instantly covered by the Captain’s mask. He steps forward and politely says, “Antony and Cleopatra reporting for duty, Doctor.”

The gentle joke eases the tension in the room and in the EHM’s holographic shoulders.

“Yes!” he exclaims. “Well, let’s begin!”

The Doctor gathers everyone together. Harry, Seven, and Tom are here, as are a selection of junior officers, including Mike Ayala and Sam Wildman. Kathryn’s eyes widen in shock when they land on Tuvok.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” she mutters under her breath as the Doctor launches into a detailed scenario of the play.

“Surprising as it may be Captain, I am very fond of Shakespeare’s plays and look forward to sharing them with another culture,” Tuvok intones.

After summarizing the play and its key characters, the Doctor encourages the cast to warm up their voices and bodies with some quick theater games. First they all struggle through some tongue twisters, and then Kathryn almost laughs out loud as she watches Seven and Tuvok mime throwing a ball to each other.

 _This could actually end up being fun_ , she muses as she lobs an invisible ball to Chakotay, who catches it and tosses it back. Soon the games are over, and the Doctor activates the “Antony and Cleopatra” holoprogram.

“Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” he announces. “You can use your scripts today, but I want all of you off book as soon as possible. The jubilee is just two weeks away, after all.”

The ensigns playing Philo and Demetrius take their places. Soon, Kathryn and Chakotay make their entrance. A messenger has brought Mark Antony news from Rome; most likely summons from Caesar or Antony’s wife. Despite Cleopatra’s urging, the mighty warrior is loath to hear it. Oh, no. He’d much rather stay in Egypt with his fair queen.

Chakotay crosses to Kathryn and says,

“Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch

Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space.

Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike

Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life

Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair and such a twain can do’t…”

He finishes his line and Kathryn is about to respond, but the Doctor calls from the audience.

“Stop, stop. Stop, please," he grumbles. "Commander, Mark Antony is meant to sensually embrace Cleopatra during that last line. He’s telling her, ‘to hell with Rome, I want to stay here making love to you!’”

Both Chakotay and Kathryn stand frozen on the stage, like deer caught in the headlights of a car. Chakotay locks eyes with Kathryn, as if asking her permission to do as the Doctor says. She gives a subtle nod. The Commander repeats his lines, this time reaching to take his Captain in his arms. Their limbs are stiff and the movements awkward, and yet they power through the scene as best as they can. All the while, they are conscious of the crewmembers’ eyes on them.

The group runs lines for another hour before the Doctor excuses everyone for the night. Kathryn is relieved to head back to her quarters, but before she can the Doctor beckons to both her and Chakotay.

“Captain… Commander...” the EMH begins. “I noticed during rehearsal tonight that the two of you seem… uncomfortable about touching each other as lovers would.”

Kathryn’s face has gone pale and Chakotay is staring at the ground.

“As your director, it’s my job to help you fully embody your characters,” the Doctor pushes on. “I’d like the two of you to take dancing lessons together. It will help you to be more at ease with each other, physically, and it will teach you to better express your characters’ feelings for each other.”

Kathryn rouses from her stupor to object.

“Doctor—” she starts.

“Captain, trust me,” the Doctor cuts in. “This will improve your performances and give us a better chance of meeting Suspiria.”

Kathryn looks at Chakotay, who shrugs his shoulders. This is clearly her decision to make.

“OK,” she says. “Let’s give it a try.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI I decided to ignore "Isabo's Shirt" for this outing. It makes the dancing much more novel and exciting. ;)

The Doctor tells them to come to the Holodeck the next evening an hour before the rest of the cast.

Kathryn and Chakotay are silent as they walk back to their quarters. It’s been a long day, and they’re both recovering from the emotional rollercoaster that was their first rehearsal. Then Kathryn catches Chakotay grinning at her.

“What is it?” she asks, returning the smile.

“That was… interesting,” he states.

“That’s one word for it,” she replies drolly.

Chakotay’s smile widens.

“I think the Doctor is on a bit of a power trip,” he says.

“Yes, and I gave him the keys to the kingdom,” she agrees, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

“Don’t worry, Captain. ‘Kingdoms are but clay!’” Chakotay enthuses dramatically. The use of her formal title—and a line from that painfully awkward scene—puts a halt to their playful banter.

“So… dancing lessons,” Chakotay tries again. “What do you think we’ll be doing?”

“With the Doctor involved, who knows,” Kathryn says, and then takes a moment to ponder the situation in which they now find themselves.

“Do you dance, Chakotay?” she asks with genuine curiosity. “All these years together, and I’ve never thought to ask.”

“Well, I’m no Dying Swan,” he tells her, a mischievous glint in his eye, “but I’ve been known to get on the dance floor every once in a while.”

She chuckles at his reference to her childhood ballet routine and bats him on the shoulder.

“I promise to go easy on you, Chakotay,” she says as they reach her quarters.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asks. Kathryn opens her mouth to reply, but nothing comes out.

“Sweet dreams, Kathryn,” he says and travels on to his own quarters. For the second time in 24 hours, Kathryn Janeway blushes.

\--

They walk to the Holodeck together the next evening, dressed again in civvies at the Doctor’s request. Kathryn is wearing another tunic, this one light blue, and Chakotay is wearing a cream sweater and tan slacks.

“So,” Chakotay asks, “do you plan to take any shore leave while we’re here for the jubilee?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Kathryn tells him. “But I doubt we’ll have much free time, what with rehearsals and dance lessons. Plus, if everything goes as planned with Suspiria, we’ll be home in less than two weeks.”

“You really believe she’ll send us home,” Chakotay says, his tone more of a statement than a question.

“Yes,” she replies simply. “I take it you still don’t.”

“No, but I believe in you. If anyone can convince Suspiria to do something, it’s Kathryn Janeway.” Chakotay’s words send a wave of pleasure through Kathryn’s body. It feels good to have Chakotay’s trust once more. It wasn’t long ago that that wasn’t the case.

He gestures for her to enter the Holodeck first. Inside, they’re surprised to see a familiar set of doors and a hanging wooden sign.

“Captain, Commander! Welcome,” the Doctor greets from the center of Chez Sandrine, Tom Paris’s holographic recreation of the French bar.

The usual tables and chairs are stacked in a corner and the pool table is pushed up against the far wall to make room for a dance floor. To the EMH’s right stands the eponymous proprietress, dressed in a sheer emerald blouse and matching skirt.

“Bonjours, les étudiants,” she calls coquettishly. Kathryn and Chakotay make their way through the smoky atmosphere to join the holographic couple.

“Quite an unusual dance studio, Doctor,” Kathryn notes.

“Normally, yes. But I think this is the perfect place to teach a dance as sensual and passionate as the tango,” he says.

“The tango?” Kathryn blurts.

“Shouldn’t we be in Buenos Aires for that?” Chakotay adds.

The Doctor nods his head sagely at Chakotay.

“It’s true, Commander, that tango originated in the city of Buenos Aires. But it has just as much of a connection to France,” he says. “Tango is a dance, music, and poetry created by European and South American immigrants, who all brought their native dances with them to Argentina.”

While the Doctor is talking, a trio of musicians near the fireplace starts to play a distinctly rousing song.

“Buenas Aires was a very poor city with penniless, single men coming to make their fortunes on the plains of Argentina and Uruguay,” he explains. “Those who failed ended up in the cities, hoping to earn enough money to return home or to buy a bride from Europe.”

As the music builds, the Doctor extends his hand to Sandrine, who takes it enthusiastically. She circles the doctor seductively before he pulls her into an embrace and they start to dance.

“A poor, desperate male population bred crime, gangsters, and tango,” he continues to lecture, his photonic lungs unfazed by the physical activity. “With few women around, tango moved to where women could be found: the brothels and bars. The popular dance soon moved up the social ladder and was embraced by the sons of the rich. Those rich sons then brought tango to Paris, France, where it caught on like wildfire.”

The Doctor punctuates the end of his speech by stomping his left foot and then dipping Sandrine in a slow, deep, semi- circle. Once finished, he bows to her and then heads toward the Holodeck exit.

“Doctor?” Kathryn calls. “Where are you going?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t stay to teach your dance lesson, Captain. I have to help Lt. Paris and Ensign Kim grasp the concept of iambic pentameter,” he sighs. At their looks of confusion, the Doctor adds, “Don’t worry. I’ve programmed Sandrine here with all the knowledge necessary to instruct you. The goal of these lessons, remember, is not to become tango champions, but to better develop your emotional and physical connection.”

They watch the back of his balding head as he leaves, and then turn to Sandrine.

“Bein, mes amours, let’s begin by getting out of those ridiculous clothes!” she says. “You cannot dance the tango without feeling each other, skin to skin.”

Kathryn purses her lips together and Chakotay tugs nervously on his ear. After a beat, he turns his back to her and reaches to remove his sweater. She uses the moment of privacy to unbutton her tunic. When they face each other again, Chakotay is wearing a dark grey undershirt and Kathryn has on a white camisole.

“Parfait!” Sandrine exclaims. “Now, stand closer to each other.”

They both take tentative steps toward each other.

“The first position is the open embrace,” Sandrine tells them. “The man, the lead, takes the woman’s right hand and places his left hand on her side.”

Haltingly, Chakotay takes Kathryn’s hand and places his other hand gingerly on her hip.

“Non, not there, monsieur,” the blonde says. She takes his hand and guides it to Kathryn’s upper left side. As they stand awaiting further instruction, Chakotay can feel his partner’s shallow breathing and the outline of her ribs. Kathryn, for her part, secretly marvels at the sensation of Chakotay’s large hand holding her firmly in place.

“In an open embrace, there can be as much space as desired between the partners, but there should always be complete contact along the embracing arms to give optimum communication,” Sandrine tells them. “In the close embrace, however, the leader and the follower's chests are in contact and they are dancing with their heads touching,” she continues, and then guides her pupils into the appropriate position.

Suddenly, Kathryn and Chakotay are pushed together, chest to chest and cheek to cheek. They’re so close, Chakotay is shocked to feel the peaks of Kathryn’s hardened nipples against his chest. He exhales sharply, causing her to gasp in surprise. He rears his head back and they lock eyes. His are smoldering coals and hers are wild and stormy like the ocean in winter.

They stare at each other, unable to speak, as the music starts back up again.


	7. Chapter 7

That night, Kathryn dreams of Chakotay; Chakotay touching her, Chakotay kissing her, Chakotay making love to her. It’s not the first time she’s dreamt of him, but it’s the most vivid dream she’s ever had—probably because she now knows what it feels like to have his calloused hands on her bare skin.

In the morning, Captain Janeway makes it onto the bridge, bleary eyed and nerves abuzz.

“I’ll be in my Ready Room,” she tosses over her shoulder as she makes a beeline for her sanctuary.

“Aye, Captain,” Chakotay calls.

Once alone, Kathryn orders another cup of coffee from the replicator and sits down to work at her desk. She’s mortified to see that her hands are shaking.

 _Pull yourself together, Janeway_ , she chides as she takes some steadying breaths. _It was just a dream_.

 _Yes, but you want it to be more_ , replies a softer, silkier voice in Kathryn’s head.

She lets out a long groan and scrubs her face with her hands.

Someone presses the chime at her door.

“Come in,” she barks.

Chakotay enters and assesses her disheveled state.

“Everything OK?” he gently queries.

She stalls by taking a sip of coffee and then says, “Yes, yes. I’m fine. It’s just… memorizing all these lines is giving me a headache.”

“Tell me about it,” Chakotay commiserates. “I’m tempted to ask B’Elanna if there’s any way to program it into our brains rather than having to commit it to memory.”

She smiles, despite herself.

“What can I help you with, Commander?” she asks, falling into routine.

Chakotay takes a seat in front of her desk. He rubs his thighs several times and then stops abruptly.

“I was just wondering about the scene tonight,” he finally says.

She looks at him blankly.

“I thought maybe we should… practice... before we have to do it in front of everyone at rehearsal,” he utters.

Kathryn tries to recall which scene they’ll be working on tonight. Oh, right. Act III, Scene XI: Antony and Cleopatra join forces to battle the Romans at sea. They’re on their way to victory when, without warning, Cleopatra flees with her ships and Antony follows. Cleopatra begs an ashamed Antony’s forgiveness and then comforts him with a—

“Oh!” Kathryn exclaims, her cheeks blooming with color.

 _Damn Irish genes_ , she thinks.

Chakotay eyes her carefully.

“Uh… sure,” she says noncommittally. “We should probably get comfortable with the scene.”

“OK,” Chakotay replies and then stands and crosses to the couch.

“You mean right now?” Kathryn squeaks.

“It has to be now. I have security team trainings all day with Tuvok in preparation for the jubilee next week,” he tells her.

Kathryn swallows hard and nods.

She makes her way to the elevated area near the couch. They begin the scene. Kathryn, as Cleopatra, enters her palace to find a despondent Mark Antony.

“O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt?” Chakotay demands, his face twisted in agony.

"See, how I convey my shame out of thine eyes

By looking back what I have left behind

Destroyed in dishonor."

Kathryn gently strokes Chakotay’s face.

“O my lord, my lord,

Forgive my fearful sails!

I little thought

You would have followed,” she pleads.

Chakotay fiercely grabs her hand.

“Egypt, thou knew'st too well

My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,

And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit

Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that

Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods

Command me!”

Kathryn’s heart constricts painfully at the double meaning in his words. Memories of their journey together on Voyager flood her already rattled brain: The Angry Warrior speech on New Earth; the rose and sail on Lake George; their arguments over joining forces with the Borg; Riley Fraizer; Kashyk; every candlelit dinner they've eaten together...

“Pardon, my Lord, pardon,” she whispers, a tear escaping down her cheek.

“Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates

All that is won and lost,” Chakotay responds.

“Give me a kiss; Even this repays me.”

Kathryn crouches next to Chakotay. Her heart is screaming, _Kiss him!_ and still, she cannot move.

Chakotay, sensing her indecision, leans in and places a soft, warm kiss on her lips.

She smells shaving cream and a musky hint of cologne, and then she feels his hand rest upon her cheek.

Stunned, she places her hand on top of his.

After several seconds, Chakotay leans back to look at her face.

“Was… was that OK?” he asks.

Kathryn nods. “Yes… that was… nice,” she tells him.

“Good. I didn’t want our—I didn’t want the first kiss to be in front of everyone,” a flustered Chakotay explains.

“No. It’s good that we got to practice,” she says. She’s about to say more when her security officer’s monotone startles both of them.

“Tuvok to Commander Chakotay.”

Chakotay grimaces and taps his Comm badge.

“Chakotay here,” he growls.

“Commander, we are ready to start the security team training. Shall we wait for you?”

“I’ll be right there, Tuvok.”

Chakotay pushes to his feet and offers Kathryn a hand up.

“Kathryn, I—“ he begins.

“You’d better get down there, Commander,” she tells him and then crosses to her desk. “I’ll see you tonight."

Chakotay’s chest deflates slightly, but he then snaps to attention.

“Aye, Captain,” he says and exits the Ready Room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bumping the rating up to M, just in case.

Time flies and soon it’s a couple of days before the jubilee. The Doctor is pleased with Kathryn and Chakotay’s progress in rehearsal—the tango lessons seem to be helping. Still, he continues to push for more passion.

“This is your queen, Commander, the love of your life. Her allure is so powerful that you’ve forsaken everything to be with her,” the hologram testifies during a particularly intimate scene.

His words, while intended to describe Antony and Cleopatra, have a noticeable impact on Chakotay. Kathryn can tell that the role is putting considerable strain on her First Officer and she can sympathize. Her dreams have continued to overwhelm her, making sleep even more difficult than usual.

Ironically, now they can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other. The dancing and blocking have leaked into their personal and professional lives, eliciting longer and more frequent touches on the Bridge, in the Mess Hall, and in their quarters while running lines. Rather than putting on another skin—as is usually case when acting a part—performing these roles has stripped Kathryn and Chakotay’s defenses bare.

And so, this is how they find themselves at their final dance lesson before transporting planetside to begin technical rehearsals at the jubilee pavilion.

Chakotay, wearing a black, tight-fitting button-down shirt and equally tight slacks, enters Sandrine’s to find it empty.

“Computer, activate character Sandrine,” he calls.

“Unable to comply,” the computer tells him. “Character is already running.”

Confused, Chakotay walks around the room and behind the bar, looking for his blonde instructor.

“Hello?” he calls.

“Chakotay, is that you?” Kathryn answers from a small office adjacent to the bar. “I can’t find Sandrine.”

“Me neither,” he tells her.

“That is so odd. The computer says she’s located on this holodeck,” she says as she walks out of the office and up to her dancing partner.

Chakotay's jaw drops open.

Kathryn Janeway, his brave and steely captain, is wearing a shimmering gold, floor-length evening dress. The bodice is pleated, and draped on one side is a sheer, black panel that drops down her front like a waterfall. The thin straps and form-fitting fabric display her toned arms and womanly curves in a way Chakotay has never before seen. As she walks, Chakotay catches glimpses of her bare legs through the long slits in the flowing skirt of her dress.

“Kath—" he coughs and then gulps. “Kathryn, you look… beautiful.”

She smiles shyly and runs her hands through her hair, which frames her face in delicate waves.

“Thank you, Chakotay,” she tells him. “I just finished my costume fitting with the Doctor. He suggested I wear it tonight to get used to moving in it.”

She does a small spin to give him a 360-degree view. When she faces him again, Kathryn takes in Chakotay’s appearance. Her eyes graze over his muscular legs and thighs; travel up to his bare chest, which is peeking out from inside his shirt; and settle on his handsome face.

“I figured the Roman armor would hinder our dancing,” Chakotay tells her.

She nods in agreement. “You look… you look great, too,” Kathryn utters.

As they stand there, staring at each other, tango music begins to play. Chakotay looks around the room and then shrugs.

“Shall we?” he asks and holds his arms out to her.

“Might as well,” she answers with a lopsided smile.

She steps into his embrace and they begin to move across the floor. The mix of music, perfumed smoke, and firelight from the hearth creates an intoxicating atmosphere. As the music swells, Chakotay spins Kathryn out in front of him, causing the panels of her dress to flare up like a pinwheel. He then forcefully pulls her back into his arms. Clutching her to his chest, he drags her poised body backward several paces. Suddenly, he releases her and pivots in a circle around her panting figure.

Kathryn closes her eyes to steady herself. She can sense Chakotay standing behind her. She feels his fingers twine in hers and then trail up her arms and caress her shoulders. One of his hands reaches up to brush her hair to the side and then his lips are kissing along her shoulder and up her neck.

“Oh, God. Chakotay,” she breathes and threads her own fingers into his hair.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, Kathryn pulls Chakotay’s face to hers and devours his luscious mouth. Without hesitating, Chakotay cradles the back of her head with one of his hands and circles her waist with the other. He pushes her backward until her hips collide with the pool table.

“I want you so badly, Kathryn,” he murmurs in her ear.

“Please,” she whines.

The hand on her waist dips down to grab her shapely ass and she moans in approval. Then she is up on the pool table and her leg is hooked around Chakotay, who is stroking her taut breast through the flimsy fabric of her dress. His lips are back blazing a trail up her neck, and she is about to dig her nails into his ass cheeks when someone clears his throat—loudly.

Kathryn’s eyes snap open and both she and Chakotay freeze.

Standing at the entrance to Sandrine’s is the Doctor.

Chakotay steps away from Kathryn and crosses abruptly toward the fireplace, his back to both of them. Kathryn hops down from the pool table and tries to compose herself.

“Doctor,” she croaks. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” he says.

The room is painfully quiet. In the back of her mind, Kathryn wonders when the music stopped playing.

Then the Doctor claps his hands together and tells them, “That’s exactly the kind of passion I want to see on the stage, you two. Keep up the great work!”

And just as suddenly as he appeared, he exits the Holodeck.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning the cast and a small portion of the crew transport down to the planet’s surface to begin preparing for the jubilee. Captain Janeway makes sure she and Chakotay head up different away teams to guarantee everything is going to schedule.

Kathryn knows it’s for other reasons.

She hasn’t slept all night. She excused herself from the Holodeck shortly after the Doctor stumbled across his two commanding officers… about to rip each other’s clothes off.

She knows she should be ashamed of herself or, at the very least, embarrassed. Play or no play, her conduct is most unbecoming of a Starfleet captain. But Kathryn is stunned to realize that the only thing she feels is want; a deeply palpable longing to love, and be loved by, the man who has stood unfailingly by her side these past seven years.

It absolutely terrifies her.

So she pours herself into the jubilee and the promise of getting home. At one point, an unassuming crewman mixes up Cleopatra’s headdress with Octavia’s nearly causing the Doctor to short circuit. Luckily, Janeway steps in to set things straight.

“Don’t worry, Doctor,” she soothes. “Seven and I both know what we’ll be wearing throughout the production.”

“Be that as it may, Captain, all of the garments must be well organized to ensure seamless costume changes!” the hologram chafes.

“Well, who better to organize something than a former Borg drone?” she quips and flags down Seven to oversee such a sensitive project.

“Thank you, Captain,” he exclaims.

On the other side of the pavilion, Chakotay is checking in with the Ardosian artisans responsible for developing the sets. Arden and the Guardian elders, Cleon and Jovus, have made a special trip to welcome their honored guests and performers.

“I do hope everything is to your liking, Commander,” Jovus tells him. “The head carpenter and master designer were given a full report on the Doctor’s specifications."

Chakotay does his best to reassure his hosts, all the while keeping an eye out for a certain redhead. 

“Your people’s craftsmanship is more than adequate, Edlers,” he says. “On behalf of the Doctor and the rest of the cast, let me express our deepest thanks for letting us participate in this ritual.”

The reptilians’ eyes gleam at the compliment. Cleon, the tallest of the three, places a clawed hand on Chakotay’s shoulder.

“Commander, we’re about to give the Captain a tour of the pavilion and surrounding gardens before we head back to the capital to meet with the other Guardians,” he says. “Are you able to join us?”

Chakotay accepts the offer, more as a means of cornering Kathryn than enjoying the local architecture.

“Wonderful! We told her to meet us on the eastern grounds,” Cleon tells him. “We’ll meet you there shortly. We’re going to see if the Doctor is available, too.”

The aliens depart to solicit the EMH, and Chakotay sets off to in search of Kathryn.

He finds her standing under a large, webbed tree with vividly pink flowers. He slows his steps to enjoy the view as long as possible before making his presence known.

Reluctantly, he calls out to her, “Kathryn."

She startles at the use of her given name.

“Chak—” she stumbles momentarily before correcting herself. “Commander. Are you here to join the tour?”

Her nonchalant greeting, coupled with a day’s worth of obvious avoidance, stokes Chakotay’s ire.

“Is that all you have to say to me?” he demands, gravel in his voice.

“I don’t know what you were expecting—” Kathryn starts defensively.

“We’re not going to talk about what happened on the Holodeck last night?” he cuts in.

“What is there to say?” she answers, attempting to keep the conversation light. “It was a heated moment and we let our characters take over. It was bound to happen after constantly rehearsing together. The Doctor, in fact, seemed quite pleased with our performance. I believe he called it ‘very Method’ of us.”

Suddenly, explosively, Chakotay strides up to Kathryn and pulls her close.

“Damn it, Kathryn! That wasn’t Mark Antony and Cleopatra last night on the dance floor. That was us, and you know it,” he fumes.

His breath, heavy on her face and neck, causes a shiver to ricochet through Kathryn’s bird-like body.

“I know,” she whispers, and then more forcefully, “I know.”

A rustling sound halts their intense conversation. The Guardians and the Doctor are making their way up the path toward the command team. Hoping not to attract their attention, Kathryn breaks away from Chakotay and adjusts her uniform.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he tells her.

It is not a suggestion.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lag. Life got crazy, but now I'm back!

They finish the tour with the Elders and the Doctor. Their command façades work on the reptilian aliens, but not on the hologram, who raises a questioning eyebrow at Kathryn’s awkward body language and Chakotay’s surreptitious glances.

Soon the Guardians depart for the capital, and the Doctor begs leave to meet with the Ardosian prop master. Kathryn mumbles something about needing to check in with Tuvok, but Chakotay snakes his large fingers around her arm.

“Kathryn,” he says. “We need to talk about this.”

“I can’t,” she tells him in a sharp voice.

A mixture of hurt, anger, and determination clouds his features.

“Not now,” she adds more gently.

“When?” he persists.

“After the jubilee. After we make it home,” she says with a note of finality.

“Kathryn, there’s no guarantee—" Chakotay starts, but is stopped by a Janeway death glare.

He takes a deep breath and tries again. “I just need to know that you’ll make time to talk about this. I can’t pretend anymore that I don’t have feelings for you,” he explains. “And I don’t think you can either.”

Kathryn doesn’t meet his gaze. It’s one of the few times Chakotay has seen her so vulnerable, so unsure of herself. Then she raises her chin; sparkling blue orbs meet warm chocolate brown.

“No,” she utters.

For a moment, Chakotay thinks she’s shutting him out again, but then Kathryn continues in a near whisper: “I can’t pretend anymore either.”

She threads her fingers through his and says more assuredly, “I’ll make time, Chakotay. I promise.”

\--

The cast finishes unloading all of the supplies by late afternoon. In a moment of uncharacteristic benevolence, the Doctor gives everyone the evening off.

“But I want you all rested and ready to go, bright and early, for technical rehearsal,” he orders.

Kathryn idly wonders whether her balding subordinate has transformed into the Emergency Command Hologram without her knowing. But his Starfleet uniform is still science blue, and the required pips haven’t magically appeared on his collar.

Too tired to argue, she nods her approval.

Some of the cast, led by Tom and Harry, decide to check out a local alehouse before turning in—“just for the food,” Tom assures—but Kathryn declines their invitation. Instead, she heads to her assigned suite for a hot bath and a quite night. Chakotay, for once, she notes with relief, has made himself scarce.

Alone in her room, she sheds her uniform and fills the large wooden tub in the bathroom with steaming spring water. As she sits next to tub, Kathryn admires its fine craftsmanship. Carved into its dark grain are unusual, swirling symbols that were obviously made by a careful and skilled hand.

Suddenly, Kathryn’s mind is flooded with unbidden memories of the last time she bathed in a tub like this… and the strong, skilled hands of the man who made it for her.

“Chakotay,” she sighs as she lowers herself into the sultry water.

Kathryn, with her scientific mind, doesn’t believe much in fate—or the Fates—but perhaps the Bard’s affinity for the fickle goddesses is wearing off on her. Fate, they say, is inescapable; and so, it seems, is her First Officer—even in the privacy of her own bathroom.

Kathryn chuckles mirthlessly at the irony of the situation. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep, cleansing breath and attempts to clear her mind. But she can’t stop thinking about Chakotay.

In bursts of images, Kathryn recalls New Earth: The heavenly feeling of his fingers massaging her aching shoulders and the arousal it elicited in her core. Her panicked attempt to set up parameters between them, and Chakotay’s heartfelt Angry Warrior speech.

On the heels of those memories come more recent ones: The soft caress of their first kiss in her Ready Room. The thrill of his hands and searing lips on her body as they devoured each other on the dance floor.

Unconsciously, Kathryn begins to touch herself.

Her small, nimble fingers curve over her breasts to pinch her sensitive nipples and then move down under the water. She works herself mercilessly until beads of sweat have formed on her brow and her body is screaming for release.

But it won’t come. It’s not her hands she’s longing for.

Kathryn lies dejectedly in the water until it becomes lukewarm. Frustrated and drained, she drags herself from the tub and dresses in fresh clothes. 

As the planet's red-purple sun sets, she sits at a small table picking over the meal provided by the Ardosians.

“You’re not hungry for food,” she chastises and is shocked to realize she's spoken aloud.

“This isn’t working," she utters. "I need to go talk to him.”

Before she can change her mind, Kathryn rises and heads for the door.


	11. Chapter 11

Kathryn cuts across the courtyard garden to Chakotay’s suite. She knocks on the door and waits. There’s no answer.

Could he have gone with Tom and Harry to the alehouse? No, he wasn’t amongst the crowd that headed into town. Perhaps he’s on a vision quest in hopes of centering himself before the performance? Yes, that must be it. Normally, she wouldn’t interrupt such a personal moment, but this is important.

 _And he did say he wanted to talk_ , Kathryn rationalizes before testing the door handle. It’s unlocked, so she lets herself in.

The room is dark except for some candlelight in the eating area. Kathryn is surprised to hear voices speaking in low tones. One of them is female. She can’t make out what they’re discussing. But then the room is suddenly quiet.

Intrigued, Kathryn walks around an accent wall to find Chakotay in a passionate lip lock with Seven of Nine.

Bewildered by the bizarrely intimate scene before her, Kathryn turns to leave. In her frazzled haste, she bumps into an end table and knocks over a basket of fruit.

The noise startles Seven and Chakotay, who quickly move away from each other.

The ex-Borg is the first to notice their interloper.

“Captain,” she states in what nearly amounts to embarrassment.

Chakotay tenses and turns his fiery gaze toward the door.

“Kathryn,” he croaks.

The trio stares at each other in awkward silence.

Kathryn is first to break the trance.

“I’m sorry,” she says, as she kneels to pick up the fallen fruit. “The door was unlocked. I wanted to… I didn’t mean to interrupt... your rehearsal. I’ll just let myself out.”

She plunks the refilled basket back on the table and attempts to leave again, but Seven’s voice stops her.

“We weren’t rehearsing. We were—are—having dinner,” the blonde haltingly informs the older woman.

Kathryn turns to face the couple. In a daze, she takes in the half-eaten meal on the table and the glasses filled with an electric blue liquid she assumes is alcohol.

She feels her body go numb.

“You’re… on a date,” she sputters.

A delicate blush colors Seven’s alabaster cheeks.

“Yes—"

“No—" Seven and Chakotay simultaneously blurt out.

The former drone glances at Chakotay in confusion.

“Kathryn, it’s not what you think,” he pleads as he rises from the table.

Shakily, Kathryn raises her palm to prevent him from invading her space.

“I need to leave,” she states with a tremble in her voice and flees the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [via GIPHY](https://giphy.com/gifs/a79Jr229u3bzO)
> 
>  
> 
> This says it all...


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let there be angst.

Kathryn dashes across the courtyard back to the safety of her suite. She locks the door and leans against it for support. Her legs are weak and she’s having trouble breathing.

All she can think is, _what the hell just happened?_

Chakotay and Seven. It’s a romantic equation her brain just can’t compute. They have absolutely nothing in common. Chakotay is a deeply spiritual man who enjoys immersing himself in sentient cultures and psychology. Seven is brilliant, but analytical to a fault and has the emotional reasoning of a teenager.

As the shock and confusion begin to wear off, Kathryn is consumed with another feeling: rage.

 _How could he?_ she fumes as she pushes away from the door and begins to pace the room. The sound of someone pounding on the door disrupts her turbulent thoughts.

“Kathryn!” Chakotay calls. “Kathryn, open the door!”

“Go away, Chakotay!” she bellows.

“Kathryn, please. Let me explain,” he begs.

An incensed Kathryn Janeway crosses to the door and throws it open.

“Yes. Please do explain, Chakotay,” she snarls as he barrels into the room. She slams the door and stalks toward him like a bloodthirsty panther.

“Explain how you could have the gall to tell me that you have feelings for me,” she shouts, “but then turn around and go on a date with Seven of Nine!”

“It wasn’t a date,” Chakotay tells her. “At least, I didn’t intend it to be a date. I was trying to let her down easy.”

“What do you mean?” Kathryn demands.

“I was going to tell her about us—about you and me—and that I couldn’t see her anymore because I have, and always have had, feelings for you,” Chakotay rambles. “But then she kissed me and then you walked in… and everything just happened so fast. Believe me, I didn’t mean for either of you to get hurt.”

Kathryn does her best to follow his jumbled confession. One part, in particular, spikes her adrenaline like the Bridge on Red Alert.

“You were going to tell her that you can’t see her _anymore_ ,” she grates out. “So that means the two of you have been seeing each other.”

Chakotay gulps and rakes his hands through his hair.

“Yes,” he admits after a long pause. “We’ve been on several dates.”

Kathryn feels like she’s been sucker punched. She stumbles to a nearby chair and covers her face with her hands.

 _Breathe_ , she orders herself repeatedly.

Chakotay continues with his explanation: “We went on a few dates before Voyager made contact with the Ardosians, before the play… before you and I…” he says and then trails off.

“Before you told me how much you wanted me and practically ripped my clothes off on the holodeck,” Kathryn tonelessly replies.

Chakotay slams his hands down on the table next to her.

“Goddamnit! That’s not fair,” he booms.

The crack of flesh against wood makes her jump, but she won’t back down.

“Not fair?” she declares. “I’ll tell you what’s not fair: The man I love telling me how much he wants me while simultaneously seducing my protégé! For fuck’s sake, Chakotay—she’s like a daughter to me.”

Her arrow-sharp words sail through the air and hit Chakotay’s chest dead on.

“I said yes to Seven because her mentor wouldn’t have me!” he seethes. “Do you know how good it felt, Kathryn, to finally be wanted? After _years_ of being pushed away!”

The air crackles with anger, angst, and desire. But neither party is willing to give an inch.

“I think you should leave,” Kathryn coldly states.

A desperate Chakotay attempts to take her in his arms, but it’s no use.

“Get out,” she growls. “Now.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A steaming cup of Even-Better-Than-Coffee Substitute to whoever names the Shakespearean comedy quoted below!

Kathryn and Chakotay are alone, again, dancing at Sandrine’s.

Their heated touches spark and crackle until igniting in an inferno of arousal, a tangle of limbs and breathy whispers on the pool table.

In slow motion, Chakotay removes Kathryn’s pips one by one. He then discards the Captain’s uniform, revealing the soft, supple skin beneath. The former Maquis stares lovingly into the face of his Woman Warrior and covers her swollen lips with his own. Closing her eyes, Kathryn gives in to the conflagration of emotions and kisses him back.

When she opens her eyes, gone is the pool table and love making. In its place is a candlelit dinner. Chakotay’s fingers are tangled in the pretty, blonde tresses of her protégé. He whispers seductively in Seven’s ear, eliciting a shy smile, and then bends his dark head to kiss her perfect, bee-stung lips.

An exhausted Kathryn Janeway startles awake, her body and bedding drenched in cold sweat.

Her battered heart sinks when she remembers that her fantasy is not, in fact, a nightmare, but a painful reality.

Numbly she dresses and heads to tech rehearsal.

\--

With growing dread, the Doctor watches his two leads flounder through their final rehearsal.

Kathryn’s countenance, once so lively and shrewd, is all but dead, and Chakotay can barely make eye contact with her.

After they finish a particularly excruciating scene, the director calls his cast together. Kathryn chooses a seat as far away from her First Officer as possible. Worried glances ricochet about the stage. The command team, for once, doesn’t seem to notice or even care.

“Why don’t we take a break, everyone,” the EMH announces.

People begin to leave, mostly in twos and threes. Kathryn wanders offstage alone.

The Doctor shares a pointed look with Chakotay, whose face is awash with guilt. His photonic grimace clearly reads, _What the hell did you do_? A furrowed eyebrow adds, _I’ll deal with you later_.

Switching gears to health professional, the EMH leaves to tend to Cleopatra.

A miserable Chakotay plops down from the stage and takes a seat in the pavilion. Head in his hands, he lets out a colorful string of Klingon curses.

“Do you kiss the Captain with that mouth?” a familiar voice interrupts.

Chakotay’s head snaps up, his features drowning in grief.

“Sorry—bad joke,” B’Elanna soothes and then takes a seat next to her friend. “Tom invited me down to watch the final rehearsal."

Met with cold silence, the engineer pushes on: “Chakotay, what happened? Tom said the two of you were on fire in your scenes together. But this… this was just painful to watch.”

She gestures to the stage before them.

“That’s because she _is_ in pain, B’Elanna!” Chakotay snaps and then adds more lamely, “and it’s all my fault.”

“Is she injured?" a worried B'Elanna asks. "I’m sure the Doctor—”

Chakotay grunts in disgust.

The very pregnant half-Klingon waits for him to explain.

“Kathryn stumbled across me and Seven… kissing,” he tells her.

B’Elanna’s face contorts like she’s eaten an especially ripe leola root stew.

“We were on a date,” he states flatly.

B’Elanna stares at him in disbelief.

“You what?” she asks, her words tinged with indignation.

“Seven and I started dating after our shuttle crashed on Ledos,” he continues.

Now it’s B’Elanna’s turn to grunt in disgust.

“We became quite close while interacting with the natives,” Chakotay says defensively.

“Close?” asks B’Elanna, clearly rejecting his milquetoast story. “Chakotay, you lived with the Captain on an uninhabited planet for months!”

“You don’t have to remind me!” he exclaims. “I was the only man around for light years on New Earth and she still wouldn’t have me. I tried, B’Elanna; on that godforsaken planet and when we got back to the ship, but she wouldn’t budge. Every time I got close, it was the same answer: 'parameters' and 'protocol.'”

B'Elanna almost feels sorry for her former captain… almost.

“So you thought it’d be a good idea to start dating her surrogate daughter?” she questions. “Oh, Chakotay, you stupid peta’Q.”

“I know!” he practically wails. “I’ve been an idiot, a foolish bastard.”

Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but Chakotay’s shamefaced admission tugs at B’Elanna’s heart.

“So what are you going to do about it?” she asks.

Chakotay shakes his head pathetically.

“'And therefore is love said to be a child, because in choice he is so oft beguil’d,'” she quotes. “'As waggish boys in game themselves forswear, so the boy Love is perjured everywhere.'”

The big man looks at her in confusion, but slowly understanding dawns.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” B’Elanna adds as she gets up to leave.

“I thought you only read Klingon romance novels,” he sputters.

“ _Women Warriors at The River Blood_ , Shakespeare—in love it’s all the same,” B’Elanna throws over her shoulder. “You have to fight for your heart’s desire or die trying.”


	14. Chapter 14

The Doctor finds Kathryn in her dressing room. She’s sitting in a chair, staring blankly into the mirror before her. The usually unflappable hologram is troubled by what he sees. There are dark circles under Kathryn’s eyes and her shoulders are slumped; she looks like a wounded animal.

The EMH knocks gently on the doorframe.

At the intruding sound, Kathryn straightens her spine and schools her features into those of a practiced leader and diplomat.

“Are we ready to continue, Doctor?” she inquires.

“You tell me,” he answers, not unkindly.

There’s a flash of annoyance in Kathryn’s eyes.

 _At least it’s something_ , the hologram muses.

“Would you like to talk about what’s going on between you and Commander Chakotay?” he continues.

Kathryn’s jaw tenses.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” she rasps.

The Doctor lets out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m a hologram, not an idiot, Captain,” he tells her. “The sooner we sort this out, the sooner we can get back to rehearsal and our plan to get our crew home.”

Kathryn gingerly rubs her temples; she can feel a migraine coming on. Hopefully it will distract her from the acute aching in her chest.

“There’s no sorting this one out, Doctor,” she mumbles.

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” the EMH states.

“Chakotay and Seven are dating,” she blurts. “I interrupted them kissing over a romantic dinner last night.”

The Doctor’s jaw drops open like a startled gold fish.

"That was my reaction, too… at first,” Kathryn says sardonically.

The hologram takes up a chair next to his Captain.

“Seven and _Chakotay_?” he chokes out, and then more loudly, “What does she even see in him?”

Kathryn looks like she’s about to strangle the Doctor’s holographic neck.

Chagrined, he changes tack: “But I thought after I found the two of you… embracing... at Sandrine’s that you and he were finally…”

He trails off, obviously expecting a scolding.

Kathryn realizes there’s no use hiding her feelings for Chakotay from the EMH. If anyone can understand her heartache, it’s him, especially considering Seven’s involvement.

“I thought so, too, Doctor,” she murmurs. “I thought so, too.”

The balding man places his hand atop Kathryn’s. He wants to say how sorry he is, but is wise enough to know that she doesn’t want his pity.

Surprisingly, Kathryn doesn’t pull away. His presence is strangely comforting.

They sit together, for a time, in silence.

Finally, the EMH clears his throat. Kathryn assumes he’s going to say they'd better get back to rehearsal, but instead he tells her: “Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, you do not hold the method to enforce the like from him.”

She recognizes the line as one of Charmian’s, Cleopatra’s most faithful handmaid.

Perplexed, she answers with her next line, “What should I do I do not?”

“In each thing give him way; cross him in nothing,” the Doctor says.

“You think I should encourage him to date Seven?” Kathryn replies angrily. “You really do teach like a fool, Doctor. That is absolutely the way to lose him. But, obviously, I already have.”

The Doctor shakes his head no.

“Tempt him not so too far. I wish, forbear,” he says. “In time we hate that which we often fear.”

Kathryn growls in frustration.

“In this scene, Charmian is advising Cleopatra not to play hard-to-get with Mark Antony,” the Doctor explains.

The Captain looks like she's about to object, but he barrels on.

“In Cleopatra’s version of love, the most important thing is to never give in,” he tells her. “She believes being powerful and unattainable is the best way to keep Antony enthralled. Charmian urges the queen not to push her lover too far, but to be patient; for the things we fear often become the things we hate.”

Kathryn is speechless.

Did she, in her zeal to get everyone home, push Chakotay too far away? Did she cross him too many times, with the Borg, the Equinox, and Species 8472? 

In everything, she did what she thought was best for the crew, her feelings—and Chakotay’s—be damned.

“What have I done?” she whispers. "I'm such a fool."


	15. Chapter 15

They finish tech rehearsal not long after the Doctor and Kathryn’s heart-to-heart. The EMH is pleased to see that Cleopatra has some of her spirit back. And Antony, for his part, is much more attentive to his queen.

“Praise the Fates,” the hologram mutters from his perch in the house.

The cast members wear equally relieved expressions from their positions on stage and in the wings. 

“It appears Egypt and Rome have called a cease fire,” B’Elanna whispers to the Doctor. 

“Let’s hope it lasts,” he says. “At least until after tonight’s performance.”

\--

The gleaming, maroon sun begins its slow decent over the pavilion. In less than an hour, Ardosians young and old will come together to honor Suspiria at the Jubileum Verhalen. And the star attraction of this year’s jubilee, the Guardian Elders have proclaimed far and wide, will be “an epic drama performed by our soft-skinned friends from the U.S.S. Voyager.”

Kathryn is in her dressing room adding the finishing touches to her makeup when Seven, dressed in all her Roman finery, appears at the door. The older woman’s heart clenches when she glimpses her protégé’s reflection in the mirror.

“Seven,” she stammers, and then more assuredly adds, “What can I do for you?”

The former drone walks stiffly into the room.

“I have come to wish you broken legs,” she states.

Kathryn can’t help but smile.

“Do you mean, ‘Break a leg’?” she asks.

“Yes,” Seven replies. “I have yet to master many of these old Earth sayings.”

“Thank you, Seven,” Kathryn tells her warmly. ““It’s a traditional theater term meaning ‘good luck.’ Actors tend to be a superstitious lot; they believe actually saying the words ‘good luck’ will doom a performance.”

Seven absorbs the new information in her Borg-like manner.

“It seems I have done just that,” she says with earnest.

Kathryn’s brow crinkles in confusion.

Seven takes a deep breath and professes in a long, awkward stream: “If I knew that you and Commander Chakotay had feelings for each other, I never would have pursued him, Captain. I am sorry—for hurting you and for damaging our chances of getting to meet with Suspiria. I wasn’t aboard Voyager when you interacted with the Nacene being, but I understand that she possesses the means to get this ship, and its crew, home.”

Kathryn approaches her protégé and places her hand on the young woman’s shoulder.

“Oh, Seven. You don’t owe me an apology, but thank you for coming to see me,” she says. “Commander Chakotay and I… our relationship is complicated. I didn’t—I don’t—want anyone to know that I… care about him… more than a captain should.”

Seven eyes her quizzically. Kathryn steels herself for pointed questions.

“Forgive me, Captain, but why do you wish to hide your feelings for Commander Chakotay?” Seven queries.

This isn’t the question Kathryn expected.

Distractedly, she replies, “It would be unprofessional for the captain of a starship, especially one stranded in the Delta Quadrant, to have romantic feelings for a subordinate.”

Seven considers her statement.

“But, Captain, you just admitted that you have feelings for the Commander. Additionally, there are no strict regulations against captains becoming romantically involved with fellow crewmembers,” she says. “You and Chakotay love each other; the logical outcome is to pursue a relationship.”

Kathryn opens her mouth to respond but then shuts it.

“Chakotay explained that he cannot pursue a relationship with me because he is in love with you,” Seven continues. “He apologized for, I believe the term was, ‘leading me on,’ and asked if we could remain friends. I told him that would be very agreeable to me. In all honesty, Chakotay is longing for more of a commitment that I am willing to give.”

The blonde tentatively places her hand on her mentor’s shoulder.

“Throughout our journey together, Captain, you have taught me the importance of embracing my humanity and accepting it in others, despite its imperfections,” she says. 

After a beat, she adds, “His heart belongs to you, Kathryn. You simply have to accept it.”

Seven nods approvingly at her friend. Her mission complete, she exits the dressing room with efficiency and grace.


	16. Chapter 16

Hundreds of Ardosians file into the pavilion. Once everyone settles, the house lights go down and the curtain goes up. After days of intense memorization, physicality, and rehearsal, the moment has finally arrived.

Kathryn is standing in the wings waiting to make her entrance when Chakotay quietly steps up beside her. They lock eyes. Their expressions are reflections of regret, vulnerability, and—perchance—hope.

“Kathryn,” Chakotay whispers. It is equal parts a plea for forgiveness and a declaration of deepest love and affection.

But the moment is broken by their cue. Without thinking, Kathryn grasps Chakotay’s hand and together they enter the fray.

From the audience, the Doctor and B’Elanna watch with bated breath. This first scene will determine whether their commanding officers can transcend their personal difficulties to win the hearts and minds of their alien hosts. They see Kathryn cross the stage, but instead of the usual grit and steel, she is made of honey and spice.

“If it be love indeed, tell me how much,” she croons and plants wet kisses along Chakotay’s bare shoulder.

Shocked by her wanton display, Chakotay grips her firmly by the arms. For several seconds, it seems like he's going to break character, but then he smiles seductively and plants a searing kiss on Kathryn's lips. She all but melts into his muscled arms.

“There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned,” Antony teases.

Cleopatra pouts like the spoiled royal she is.

“I’ll set a bourn how far to be beloved,” she goads.

Antony turns on her fiercely. All playfulness is gone.

“Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth,” Chakotay growls.

Kathryn can barely breathe.

The show is off to a blazing start.

\--

Shortly after, a messenger comes to the palace with news that Antony’s brother and wife, Fulvia, have mounted a failed revolt against Caesar, resulting in Fulvia's death. Worried that his devotion to Cleopatra has caused these events, Antony abandons the queen to return to Rome.

Upon his arrival in Rome, Antony meets directly with Caesar, the emperor. The two men, in truth, are rivals, but for the sake of rule must act as friends. Nonetheless, Caesar accuses his general of treason for conspiring against Rome with his brother and dead wife. Antony argues that Fulvia—to get her unfaithful husband out of Egypt and the arms of Cleopatra—was the one who orchestrated the uprising against Caesar. Still, Caesar is angry at Antony for not coming to his aid.

The drama unfolds onstage with Tom, as Caesar, railing against Chakotay for his treachery.

The scene, B’Elanna muses in the audience, is reminiscent of those early days on Voyager when Chakotay raked her now-husband over the coals for betraying his trust—but with the roles reversed.

Kathryn, from her position in the wings, has similar thoughts.

It’s at this juncture that Tuvok—the voice of reason in fantasy as well as reality— steps in as Agrippa, Antony’s trusted advisor.

 _Another ironic twist_ , Kathryn notes with a smile.

Throughout rehearsals, she never got a chance to see the three men perform together. Now it’s about to play out before her.

Tuvok clears his throat.

“Give me leave, Caesar,” he says.

“Speak, Agrippa,” Tom commands.

“Thou hast a sister by the mother’s side, admired Octavia. Great Mark Antony is now a widower,” Tuvok states.

“Say not so, Agrippa," Tom replies with a chuckle. "If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof were well deserved of rashness.”

“I am not married, Caesar,” Chakotay states. “Let me hear Agrippa further speak.”

Chakotay's line lodges a knife in Kathryn’s chest. Then Tuvok’s reply twists it even more deeply.

“To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts with an unslipping knot, take Antony Octavia to his wife. Octavia, whose beauty claims no worse a husband than the best of men,” he says. “Whose virtue and whose general graces speak that which none else can utter. By this marriage, all little jealousies, which now seem great, and all great fears, which now import their dangers, would then be nothing.”

Mentally, Kathryn understands that they are acting, but her heart breaks at hearing her oldest friend suggest that Chakotay marry Seven.

In her anguish, Kathryn's fledgeling hope of finally being with Chakotay falters.

She senses there is a strange logic to Chakotay wooing Seven. The former Borg drone is undeniably beautiful, but more than that, she is guileless and trusting ... qualities Kathryn feels she lost long ago. Qualities she knows Chakotay admires and would look for in a mate.

The demands of fighting tooth and nail to survive in the Delta Quadrant have changed Kathryn. She often feels tarnished—less than the woman who started this journey. Every compromise, every mistake she's made over the last seven years has taken its toll on her, body, mind, and soul.

With growing dread, she asks herself,  _What if the Kathryn Janeway Chakotay fell in love with is gone? What if he hates the woman who took her place?_  


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wine didst flow whilst this I wrote. That said, any errors made I ask please pardon. Also, there's a lot of Shakespeare in this chapter... lol

In the second act, Antony and Caesar join forces to make peace with Pompey, a Roman nobleman and solider whose cunning and good breeding pose a potential threat.

In a favorite scene of the Doctor’s, Chakotay, Tom, and an inspired Harry Kim, as Pompey, spend a drunken evening on the nobleman’s boat. As the wine and war stories flow, Pompey’s men urge him to murder his political opponents. Yet, fearing the deed would besmirch his honor, Pompey lets them go.

A few short scenes later, the truce crumbles when Caesar declares war on Pompey. To make matters worse, Antony is plagued by rumors that Caesar is mocking him in public. 

Seven—drawing on her brief foray into acting as Constance Goodheart in Tom’s Captain Proton program—does an admirable job of begging Antony not to fight with Caesar. But, ever the proud general, Antony declares he must protect his honor.

In the third act, Caesar’s forces defeat Pompey, but the mighty emperor refuses to share the spoils of war with Antony. Incensed, Antony returns to Egypt and his queen. Together they set sail to meet Caesar at sea, despite warnings that the emperor’s naval fleet far surpasses theirs.

Then, at the height of the battle, Cleopatra flees with her ships, leaving Antony and his men dangerously exposed. The desperate general hightails it back to Egypt, deeply distressed by the cowardice of their actions.

And so, Kathryn and Chakotay find themselves acting out their characters’ bittersweet reunion in Cleopatra’s palace. It’s the same scene they rehearsed in her Ready Room; the same words they uttered before kissing for the first time. But this time, the messages conveyed in the lines are laced with the revelations and regret of the past few days.

Again, a tortured Chakotay, as Antony, tells Kathryn, “Egypt, thou knew’st too well my heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings … o’er my spirit thy full supremacy thou knew’st, and thy beck might from the bidding of the gods command me.”

With a jolt, Kathryn fully realizes the power she’s wielded over her second in command all these years. Since New Earth—hell, since the Caretaker flung them thousands of light years across the galaxy—Chakotay’s heart to Kathryn’s pristine, Starfleet rudder has been tied. And as the years went by, she’s ashamed to admit, she used that to her advantage; a little flirting, a crooked smile, a fleeting touch often was all it took to get her way.

When Cleopatra begs pardon from her lord, it is not the tempestuous Egyptian speaking, but a truly remorseful Kathryn Janeway. Moved by the spirit of the moment, she threads her fingers through Chakotay’s, just as she did in their shelter on that lonely planet, and utters an unscripted, “Please forgive me.”

A stunned Chakotay wipes the wetness falling from her eyes and exclaims, with all his being, “Give me a kiss; Even this repays me.” 

Their lips, covered with the salty residue of her tears, meet in a passionate, yet tender kiss and the pavilion erupts in enthusiastic applause.

\--

In the fourth act, Antony leaves once more to battle Caesar with reinforcements from Cleopatra’s navy. But again the Egyptians betray him—this time going as far as to defect to Caesar’s side. Gobsmacked, Antony curses Cleopatra as a deadly enchantress who has bewitched and beguiled him to absolute defeat.

When the two meet again in the palace, Antony threatens to kill Cleopatra. The air on stage crackles with intensity. Chakotay taps into his once-potent rage against the Cardassians to make the scene as believable as possible. But then, as he pulls a trembling Kathryn forcefully against his body, the mood shifts to one of cruel lust. Slowly he wraps his long fingers around her alabaster throat and with his free hand immobilizes her hips.

“Let Caesar take thee and hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians!” he hisses in Kathryn’s ear and then sinks his teeth into her flesh. “Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot of all thy sex. Most monsterlike be shown for poor’st diminutives, for dolts, and let patient Octavia plow thy visage up with her prepared nails!”

A broken sob wracks Kathryn’s taut body. The noise causes Chakotay’s heart to lodge in his throat. For her ears only, he whispers, “I’m so sorry, Kathryn. I love you.” 

Then he pushes her away and screams that she vanish from his sight.

\--

Fearing for her life, Cleopatra flees with her handmaids to the Ptolemaic tomb. She sends one of her servants back to tell Antony that overwhelming guilt has driven the queen to kill herself. Overcome with grief at Cleopatra’s presumed death, Antony decides he must kill himself, too.

Grasping his sword, Chakotay declares, “I will be a bridegroom in my death, and run into't as to a lover's bed,” and drives the blade into his chest. The blow, however, does not strike true, and Antony is left to die a slow and painful death. Taking pity on him, Antony’s men carry him to Cleopatra’s tomb. Once there, the still-living queen flies to her lover’s side.

Bathed in the glow of the spotlight, Kathryn gently caresses Chakotay’s face.

“So it should be, that none but Antony should conquer Antony,” she says through tears.

Chakotay then breathes Antony’s dying wish: to kiss his queen one last time. Kathryn kisses him and then utters Cleopatra’s final line to her lord: “Noblest of men, wouldst thou die? Hast thou no care of me? Shall I abide in this dull world, which in thy absence is no better than a sty?” 

And then the mighty general dies.

\--

After Antony’s death, Caesar takes Cleopatra prisoner. The Egyptian queen tells him she’d rather die then defect to his side. In her prison cell, Cleopatra confesses to the guard her fullest feelings for Antony, her lover, her king. Before speaking, Kathryn turns her eyes to stage left, where she knows Chakotay is standing in the wings.

“I dreamt there was an Emperor Antony,” she declares. “His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck a sun and moon, which kept their course, and lighted the little O, the earth.”

Without shame, Kathryn runs her hands over her body, cupping her breasts and then her neck and face. 

“His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear'd arm crested the world; his voice was propertied as all the tuned spheres … But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, he was as rattling thunder,” she utters. “In his livery walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were as plates dropp'd from his pocket.”

In her words, Kathryn tries to convey to Chakotay her deepest, darkest desires; those dreams that for so many nights kept her awake and aching for his touch. In the guise of Cleopatra she confesses her utmost longing for his sweet caress, his loving embrace.

\--

In the final act, Cleopatra is brought before Caesar. The emperor tells the Egyptian all will be forgiven if she joins their cause. Still, Cleopatra resists. Soon it comes out that Caesar plans to parade his prisoner and her children through the streets of Rome like slaves as a demonstration of his power.

Almost serendipitously, a farmer comes to see Cleopatra with a basket of figs. Yet in the basket, among the figs, is a tangle of asps—the most poisonous snakes found in the Nile region. 

To her handmaidens and servants, the queen commands: “Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have immortal longings in me. Now no more the juice of Egypt’s grape shall moist this lip … Quick! Methinks I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself to praise my noble act; I hear him mock the luck of Caesar, which the gods give men to excuse their after wrath. Husband, I come.”

Gingerly, Kathryn holds the holographic snakes to her breast. Staring resolutely ahead into the audience, she utters her final lines: “Peace, peace! Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, that sucks the nurse asleep? As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle—O Antony!”

And then she dies.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This got way darker than I intended... Then again, it's inspired by Shakespeare.

The pavilion explodes into thunderous applause. Kathryn lies, unmoving, on the stage as the curtain closes, but even the thick fabric doesn’t muffle the aliens’ enthusiasm.

Then Chakotay is at her side, helping her up. He wraps one arm around her waist and his free hand tentatively cups her tear-stained face.

“Kathryn,” he breathes.

She closes her eyes and nuzzles his calloused hand. When she opens her eyes again the barrier parts, bathing the stage and everyone on it in the blinding glow of the spotlight. The rest of the cast is closing in on them for the curtain call. Chakotay reluctantly releases Kathryn’s face. Instead he threads his fingers through hers and reaches out to grasp Tom’s extended hand. Together the cast takes a bow.

The clapping continues until a rich, gravelly voice booms: “Kathryn Janeway, captain of the starship Voyager. We meet again.”

The declaration casts a hush throughout the crowd. An Ardosian techie swings the spotlight into the throng of reptilian creatures, illuminating the blue-violet tentacles of Suspiria. The aliens surrounding their demigoddess hiss in surprise and sink to their knees, setting off a shockwave of similar movement.

“Perhaps you’d prefer this form?” Suspiria announces to the crew in a cloying voice before transforming into the blonde-haired child who wreaked havoc on the ship all those years ago.

Kathryn steps forward to address the seemingly fragile adolescent, but before she can speak she is whisked away in a shimmering, gold haze. Kathryn and Suspiria are gone, leaving Chakotay, the rest of the cast, and the Ardosians speechless and motionless.

After a disjointed beat, Chakotay flares to life.

“Kathryn!” he shouts and then jumps off the stage and into the crowd.

“Where has Suspiria taken her?” he bellows at the Guardian Elders.

Cleon rises from his prostrate position on the floor. “Your Captain is with Suspiria in her subspace realm, Verhalen,” he explains in an awed voice.

Hundreds of reptilian aliens raise their right arms and place them across their chests.

“Verhalen!” they cry in unison.

Chakotay looks back at Tom and then at Tuvok, trying to keep the panic out of his eyes, but failing miserably.

"We also wish to see Suspiria," Tuvok says in his even Vulcan tone. "How do we get to Verhalen?”

This time Jovus steps up to speak.

“No one enters Verhalen without the Mother of Stories’ consent,” he answers.

Chakotay lets out a growl of frustration, and then gulps down several deep, centering breaths. Though the Angry Warrior in his heart is bellowing to be set loose, he knows now is not the time for an emotional outburst. Now is the time for action.

“Tuvok, Harry, beam back to the ship to scan for subspace ruptures,” he orders. “There has to be a way to get her back.”

The two officers nod. Tuvok reaches into his costume to retrieve his Comm badge.

“Tuvok to Voyager,” he calls. “Two to beam up.”

After the men disappear, Arden steps up to Chakotay.

“My friend, you don’t understand,” he stutters. “No one returns from Verhalen. It is the ultimate resting place; a world of pure thought and pure energy in which our humanoid bodies are useless.”

Chakotay’s heart plummets to the floor. “What are you talking about?” he demands.

\--

Kathryn’s nostrils are flooded with a familiar, earthy smell. _Cornfields_ , her mind automatically registers. She opens her eyes to a waving ocean of green and gold.

 _Home_ , her heart exclaims. But her scientist brain knows she must gather more evidence before making a conclusion.

She scrambles to her feet.

“Suspiria!” she roars.

“There’s no cause to shout,” the Nacene being calmly states. Kathryn whips around to find the little girl standing behind her.

“Where are we?” Kathryn demands.

“Silly human, don’t you recognize your home?” Suspiria replies.

Kathryn grits her teeth.

“Something tells me we’re not in Indiana,” she utters.

Suspiria smiles wanly.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” she pronounces and then takes a seat in the grass. “Isn't this what you desire, Kathryn? What you have fought for all these years? ‘We just want to get home.’ That’s what you told me the last time we met.”

The child holds her arms out theatrically. "Welcome home!" she declares.

Kathryn warily makes her way to Suspiria's side and sits down. The scene she finds herself in is disorienting, to say the least. It almost feels like she’s picnicking with a character on the holodeck.

“Yes, we do want to go home, but to Earth,” Kathryn tells her. "The real Earth."

The child waves her small hand over the grass and yellow prairie sunflowers start to magically bloom.

“But this Earth is so much better. With my powers, I can make whatever you and your people ask for,” Suspiria says. “The cornfields of Indiana, the San Francisco skyline, Starfleet headquarters. The options are limitless. Consider this your true _New Earth_.”

A cold dread settles in Kathryn’s stomach. She fights to push it down.

"How do you know about New Earth?" she asks.

Suspiria grins, but rather than being cute, her expression is almost sinister.

"I know everything about you, Kathryn Janeway," she tells her. "The chemistry between you and your second in command is most compelling—definitely stronger than what you'd typically find between two actors."

Kathryn tries to keep her face emotionless.

"Naturally, I wanted to better understand that connection," Suspiria continues. "You'd be surprised what the human subconscious draws on when someone is acting. Of course, if you'd prefer a sensuous tango at Sandrine's, that can be arranged."

Kathryn shoots to her feet, rage written clearly across her face.

"Such fire, such power," Suspiria notes approvingly. "If the other humans are anything like you, I'll have plenty of drama to keep me entertained for centuries." 

Kathryn turns on her fiercely.

"Entertainment?! You want us to stay with you to keep you entertained?" she seethes. "What it the world would compel you to be so selfish, so cruel?"

Suspiria assess Kathryn with mild disdain. "If you must know," she says, "I'm lonely."

"Lonely!" Kathryn barks. "But the Ardosians—"

"Are a simple, superstitious race," Suspiria finishes. "When I first met them, I was happy just to be needed. But now... I'm bored. I miss the fire, the power, and the intelligence of the Ocampa—qualities you and your crew displayed in abundance during your performance."

Kathryn's mind whirls with potential ways to respond to this hateful creature. She'd spent hours contemplating what Suspiria would say and do if they got to see her again. But this is a devastating twist. She pursued Suspiria in hopes of getting her crew back to the Alpha Quadrant. There is no way she'll condemn them to life in a subspace prison, even if it looks remarkably similar to home.

“Thank you, Suspiria. Your offer is most generous," she says as kindly as possible. "But my people and I just want to go home—our real home.”

As Kathryn says this, the sunflowers shrivel and die.

“Fine,” Suspiria spits as she stands and wipes her hands on her simple cotton dress. “I’ll send your people home.”

A bewildered Kathryn opens her mouth to express her thanks, but is immediately cut off.

“I’ll send your people home, Kathryn Janeway," Suspiria says, "if you agree to stay here with me.” 


	19. Chapter 19

A furious Chakotay, flanked by Tom and Mike Ayala, demands to meet with the Guardian Council in their temple. The rest of the cast returns to Voyager as a safety precaution.

Grudgingly, Cleon and Jovis relent to Chakotay’s urgings and take the three humans on a short journey to the capital. Chakotay is vaguely aware that they must look out of place in their Roman armor, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is getting Kathryn back. The Guardians’ claims be damned, he _will_ get her back.

Inside the temple, the tension is palpable.

“Even if we could help you get to Verhalen, why should we?” an aged Elder named Grogan challenges. “You and your captain lied to our people about your association with Suspiria. How do we know that you’re not plotting to harm her?”

Weeks ago Kathryn and Chakotay prepared for this revelation, should it arise. With forced composure, he explains, “We pose no threat to Suspiria, just as we told her five years ago when she attacked our ship. We simply wish to speak with her. Your Bringer of Light has the ability to send us home, and our hope is that she will choose to do so.”

Another Elder scoffs noisily. “That still doesn’t explain why you failed to mention your previous encounter with Suspiria,” the indignant lizard bites.

Chakotay digs his fingers into his thighs until his knuckles turn white.

“Yes,” he sighs. “We were worried that if you knew about our history with Suspiria, you wouldn’t let us attempt to contact her.

Suddenly, Arden bursts forth from the shadows where he’s been standing.

“Deceitful humans!” he yells. “You don’t deserve the Mother’s help.”

The room bursts into a chorus of arguing. Just as the cacophony reaches its precipice, a booming female voice calls for silence. The Guardian Elders whisper Suspiria’s name and bow their heads.

“Commander Chakotay, there’s someone here who would like to speak to you,” Suspiria proclaims.

There is silence and then Kathryn’s voice floods the room.

“Chakotay?” she calls.

“Kathryn!” he exclaims. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she replies. “Commander, I’m ordering you to beam back to Voyager with your team. Suspiria has agreed to send the crew home.”

Relief rushes through Chakotay’s veins like an incredibly potent cocktail. The thought, _she’s safe_ , is followed quickly by, _home— we’re going home_. He shares a jubilant smile with Tom and Mike.

“Aye, Captain,” he says. “We’ll beam to Voyager and wait for you there.”

The room is silent once more until Kathryn states unflinchingly, “I won’t be joining you, Commander. I’m staying here. In exchange, Suspiria will use her array to send Voyager and its crew home.”

Chakotay explodes to his feet.

“Kathryn, no!” he shouts.

But it’s Suspiria’s voice that responds: “Elder Grogan, please ensure that our guests make it back to their ship. Once they’re all accounted for, I’ll be using the array to beam Voyager back to the Alpha Quadrant.”

Grogan nods to the temple guards standing nearby and they immediately seize Chakotay, Tom, and Mike.

“Get your scaly claws off me!” Chakotay yells as he struggles with the guards. To the heavens, he pleads, “Kathryn, please. You don’t have to do this!”

But the line of communication is dead.

\--

Back on Voyager, Chakotay paces the length of the bridge like a distraught zoo animal. Forgoing the conference room, the senior staff stands at attention, their eyes tracking his movements.

“Tuvok, Harry,” Chakotay barks. “What did your scans reveal about the subspace rupture?”

The Vulcan raises an eyebrow at the young ensign, who replies, “It’s showing the same unusual plasmatic energy levels as last time, sir, but the magnetic polarization readings are off the charts.”

Tuvok clarifies Harry’s report by stating, “It appears that Suspiria, with help from the Ardosians, has built a larger array than the one we observed on Stardate 49164.8.”

Chakotay nods curtly. “Is there any way to enter the subspace rift?”

Seven steps forward to answer this question. “The data we’ve gathered show that entering the rift may cause it to fold in on itself, which could potentially harm the captain,” she says, causing Chakotay to grimace. “But Ensign Kim and I are working on establishing a tetryonic subspace field that will allow us to transport her back to Voyager.”

The Commander is thankful for Seven and Harry’s initiative, but knows that they’re quickly running out of time to rescue Kathryn from a life of self-imposed loneliness. He’s wracking his brain for other options when Harry cuts in excitedly, “Chakotay—the Captain’s life signs just materialized on the array!”

\--

From the main viewport of Suspiria’s array, Kathryn stares at Voyager and lovingly visualizes the 144 precious people it carries. Surprisingly, the temperamental Nacene has granted her human captive the small pleasure of watching her crew hurtle back to the Alpha Quadrant.

Kathryn always knew she’d get them home. She just didn’t think it would be like this. Suspiria certainly found her Achilles’ heel.

In her head Kathryn can hear Chakotay’s pained voice railing at her for needlessly sacrificing herself. Logically, she knows he’s right. Over its seven years together, the crew of Voyager has turned the ship into a wonderful home filled with love and laughter. But Kathryn has always held herself at arm’s length from that love. She's told herself it was to keep her captain’s instincts sharp and pure. However, Kathryn knows the decision was also a form of self-punishment for destroying the original array and stranding everyone in the Delta Quadrant.

 _You have to let the guilt go, Kathryn_ , she hears Chakotay say. _Enough is enough_.

Tears have blurred her vision of Voyager, so she bows her head to wipe her eyes. When she looks back up, Chakotay is standing several feet in front of her.

“Chakotay!” she gasps. “What are you doing here?”

He gives her a bittersweet smile. “You didn’t think I’d let you do this alone, did you?” he asks.

Kathryn’s eyes flash with understanding. “No,” she balks. “Chakotay, no. You can’t do this.”

He closes the distance between them in two steps and kisses her deeply.

“I can,” he tells her after the kiss in broken. “I am.”

The fragile dam keeping Kathryn’s emotions in check instantly shatters. She releases a sob of both grief and gratitude and wraps her arms tightly around Chakotay. Then their private moment is rudely interrupted by the sound of clapping.

“Is it art imitating life or life imitating art?” Suspiria posits with a darkly gleeful grin. “Either way, I’m hooked.”

The Nacene’s callousness spurs Kathryn into action.

“Commander Chakotay wasn’t part of our deal, Suspiria,” she fumes.

The demon child eyes her dispassionately. “No, he wasn’t,” she concedes. After a beat, she adds with more enthusiasm, “It turns out the Commander wanted to make a deal of his own. Which of Shakespeare’s characters was it who said, ‘A horse, a horse! My kingdom for a whor—”

Chakotay shoots forward and knocks Suspiria to the ground, but Kathryn stops him from doing any real damage. The crone-child chuckles and then tells Chakotay, “Careful, Commander, or I’ll send your precious crew back to the Ocampa homeworld.”

Aghast, Chakotay quickly stands down.

“That’s more like it,” the Nacene tells him as she stands. She gestures to the screen and says, “Let’s proceed, shall we?”

The two humans watch as the little girl transforms into a mass of purple, undulating tentacles. Suspiria appears to connect her consciousness to the array and it hums to life. Not long after, Kathryn shields her eyes as the array fires a tetyron beam over Voyager’s starboard bow. Within seconds the familiar, nebulous line of a displacement wave glows in the distance.

The redhead stands rapt, staring at the scene before her when Chakotay taps his comm badge and whispers, “Seven, transport on my mark.”

Suspiria, with a cold laugh, exclaims, “Your transporter beams won’t work here, human.”

Chakotay locks eyes with the treacherous alien and spits, “Are you sure about that?”

Suddenly, the deck of the array rocks beneath their feet.

“Now!” Chakotay shouts. A transporter beam deposits a strange, metallic canister on the ground before them. Chakotay lunges forward, picks up the canister, and punches a code into the keypad. After he places it back on the ground, a grid of lime green laser beams wrap around Suspiria like a spider web, holding her firmly in place. The Nacene lets out a bloodcurdling scream. As her gelatinous body writhes in pain, electrical sparks burst overhead like fireworks.

Chakotay shields Kathryn against his chest and calls out, “Tuvok, beam us out—now!”

Quickly they disappear in a cascade of blue light.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lag on this... Life got crazy and I wasn't in the right headspace for romance. Hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it! Thank you all of your kudos and wonderful comments. This started as a lark and turned into quite the creative journey. xo, Chakway

Kathryn stands, dressed in her usual red and black, gazing out at the familiar, metal arches of Deep Space Nine. She lifts a cool glass of bourbon to her lips and savors the burn as it travels down her throat.

She told Tom to set course for the station as soon as they got their bearings in the Badlands. The last thing any of them wanted was Suspiria reaching out across the universe with her array to drag them back to the Delta Quadrant. Their escape from the vicious Nacine and triumphant return to the Alpha Quadrant, however, has turned into an anti-climactic quarantine.

The acting captain of DS9 was both stunned and suspicious to see Kathryn’s face on his view screen. On orders from Starfleet Command, Voyager is now docked in a high-security berth and the crew confined to quarters. The space station’s medical team is onboard systematically evaluating everyone’s physiology to guarantee they’re not Changelings in sheep’s clothing.

Kathryn is surprised, then, to hear the doors to her quarters chime. The medics cleared senior staff hours ago, but demanded that they all stay put.

“Come,” she calls.

The metal doors part to reveal her visitor.

“Chakotay,” she breathlessly greets. “What are you doing here? Quarantine is still in effect.”

The Commander mischievously wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Like that’d stop us from celebrating this together,” he says.

From behind his back, he reveals a bottle of Antarian cider and two glasses. The petite redhead grins, but underneath her expression Chakotay detects some uncharacteristic timidity. He sets the cider and glasses on the coffee table and crosses to join her at the viewport. Resting a hand on her shoulder, he gestures to the scene before them.

“Kathryn, you did it,” he says. “We’re home.”

At this, her grin blossoms into a full-blown smile.

“We did it,” she tells him.

She turns and places a fine-boned hand on his chest. They stare at each other, faces lit with joy, until Kathryn’s expression grows serious.

“Thank you, Chakotay,” she says. “For coming after me.”

The big man’s features turn equally somber.

Cupping her cheek in his hand, he replies, “Always.”

Kathryn’s glistening, blue eyes bore into his for several seconds.

“You were really going to stay with me,” she states. "If the plan didn’t work and the matrix failed, you would’ve spent the rest of your life with me in Suspiria’s realm.”

Chakotay wipes away a stray Janeway tear with his thumb.

“Of course,” he says.

“Oh, Chakotay,” Kathryn huffs and wraps him in a small, but mighty bear hug. She loops her arms around his neck and buries her face in his warm, broad chest. The lonely tear soon turns into a steady stream accompanied by muffled sobs.

Chakotay rubs his hands soothingly up and down her back. Eventually his hands still and he simply holds her. For the first time in seven years, Kathryn lets herself fall apart in Chakotay’s arms. The captain’s armor melts away to reveal the soft, vulnerable woman underneath.

After her sobs subside, Chakotay says, “Kathryn, I love you. I want to be with you—on New Earth, here on Voyager, or in Suspiria’s realm. It’s all I ever wanted.”

Kathryn lifts her tear-stained face to look him in the eyes. Chakotay continues with his heartfelt declaration.

“I’m so sorry about what happened with Seven. It was wrong and I knew it, but I did it anyway,” he tells her. “I was lonely and feeling sorry for myself, and it felt good to be wanted. But it was stupid and cruel of me. You have every right to be angry with me. I understand if—”

Kathryn cuts him off with a look.

“Chakotay,” she purrs, “shut up and kiss me.”

He stares at her dumbly for several seconds, causing Kathryn to wonder whether he heard her. Then his lips are crashing into hers, chasing all doubt from her mind and replacing it with pure, unadulterated passion.

Soon his hands are in her hair and hers are digging into his shoulders. When Chakotay’s silky-smooth tongue trails across the seam of her lips, Kathryn lets out a breathy moan and welcomes his taste.

The sound triggers something primal in both of them. The feeling is augmented by the fact that this is them now, in every way; not Antony and Cleopatra. Their tongues duel briefly in each other’s mouths before falling into a sure and sensual rhythm.

Chakotay pushes Kathryn back against the viewport and nudges her thighs open with his knee. The unexpected friction elicits a gasp from her tender mouth. Chakotay takes advantage of the broken kiss to trail his lips across her cheek and down the side of her neck, just like he did during the performance. This time his tongue sneaks out to lap seductively at her pulse point. Soon it’s followed by his teeth. While Antony’s bites displayed fury and dominance, Chakotay’s nips are loving and filled with desire.

Kathryn sighs with pleasure and slides her fingers into his hair. His mouth eventually moves down to the pips on her collar and his teeth latch on to one of the small, metal circles.

Kathryn’s body automatically stiffens.

Chakotay places his hand on her lower back and growls from around the pip, “Kathryn, let me… please.”

She takes a deep breath and relaxes into his embrace. Slowly, he rips off the first pip and then moves to the second. The action is both poignant and arousing for Kathryn; the man she loves is finally removing the physical symbol of what has kept them apart all these years.

As he continues his task, a delicious shiver runs down Kathryn’s spine. Overwhelmed with lust, she drags her hands down his back to grip his ass and draw him closer to her core. The quick movement knocks Chakotay off balance. Surprised, he inhales sharply. After a beat he stumbles back, eyes wide and hand over his mouth.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Kathryn asks, her face tinged with concern.

Chakotay shakes his head “no.” Into his hand he spits two of her four pips. “But I did almost swallow these,” he coughs.

Her fingers immediately fly to her collar. When they find the remaining little bumps, she sighs in relief.

“Oh, God,” she groans and covers her face in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Chakotay!”

Chakotay slides the pips into his pocket and gently removes her hands from her face.

“You never have to apologize for wanting me, Kathryn,” he tells her.

Chakotay’s expression is so honest and raw with need it takes her breath away.

Looking into his eyes, she says, “I want to make love with you, Chakotay—right now. No more waiting, no more parameters.”

Her voice deepens with emotion as she asks, “Do you still want me?”

With a sweet, dimpled smile, he replies, “Always.” Then he leans in and tenderly kisses her cheek.

“I know I didn’t make it easy for you—” she murmurs.

He places a finger on her trembling lips and makes a shushing sound.

“It’s in the past,” he says. “What matters is that we’re here now and we’re together.”

A calming peace washes over Kathryn’s battle-sore heart. Wordlessly, she takes Chakotay by the hand and leads him to her bedroom. In silence they undress each other until they’re clothed in nothing but starlight. Kathryn lies down on the bed and pulls Chakotay on top of her; golden honey on smooth, white cream. Time stops and their world narrows to the thrill of touch and taste, sensation and sound. Together they bare their hearts and worship each other’s bodies.

As Kathryn guides Chakotay into her channel, she smiles up at him and whispers, “I love you. So much.”

\--

Later they lie together, sated and covered in sweat. Kathryn rests on Chakotay’s chest as he absently runs his fingers through her soft tresses. Kathryn lifts her head and quirks a sultry eyebrow.

“I think we just gave Antony and Cleopatra a run for their money,” she says.

“Definitely,” Chakotay replies.

A high-pitched chirp interrupts their chuckling and then the room is flooded with the hearty wails of a newborn child.

“Doctor to the Captain _and_ Commander,” the EMH announces. “There’s someone here who’d like to say hello.”

If her lungs are any indication, Miral Paris is already a force to be reckoned with.

Kathryn thanks the Doctor and congratulates B’Elanna and Tom. She then pushes herself up to get out of bed.

“We’d better get down there,” she says.

But Chakotay clamps his arms around her waist.

“Let Rome in Tiber melt and the wide arch of the ranged empire fall. Here is my space,” he tells her. “The nobleness of life is to do thus, when such a mutual pair and such a twain can do ’t.”

Kathryn rolls her eyes and swats him playfully on the chest.

“It’s a baby, Chakotay. Not Caesar,” she chides.

Undeterred, he kisses his way down her neck to her chest.

“Yes, but I finally got into your bed after seven years of longing. I’m not about to leave,” he says before catching a nipple in his mouth.

Kathryn hisses in surprise and then lets out a husky groan.

“Maybe they can do without us for a bit longer,” she tells him. “Plus, we are still under quarantine.”

She feels Chakotay smile around her nipple.

“Yes, and we wouldn’t want to disobey orders,” he says.

“Of course not,” Kathryn pants.


End file.
